4AM Kitchen Delight
by VirtualRine'z
Summary: When Stiles' long date crush on his best friend's step-brother is solved at 4am in a kitchen.


**4AM Kitchen Delight**

* * *

"Do you want to wake up everyone in this house? Be quiet," Derek murmurs against his throat as he pins him even more tightly against the fridge.

"You dick. It's your fault you – _oh_, yes there."

Another moan escapes from his lips and he throws his head back, giving more space for Derek to use his skillful lips. He buries his fingers in the thick black hair.

Derek hands slides under his shirt, rough fingers rubbing the sensitive skin of his lower stomach, mouth still working on his neck, kissing, licking, marking. Stiles would tell him to stop if he wasn't so turned by it. He's pretty sure he's going to arbor pretty damn flashy hickeys in the morning but he can't seem to care at the moment. It's winter, he can just blame the cold weather and throw a heavy scarf around his neck to hide them. He couldn't imagine having to explain to his dad why after spending the night at his best friend's he came home looking like he had a very nice sexy time. _Derek decided to molest me during the night. Yes it was fun, thank you. Uh, not going to happen_.

To be fair, when he had waken up that night because of a pressing need, he hadn't expected things to develop in this way. Hell, no. To discover after several years of pining that his severe crush of his best friend's brother was actually not so one-sided anymore had been much of a surprise. He almost had a heart attack. Especially since Derek had decided to make the said reciprocate crush known by sexually assaulting him, at four in the morning, in his home's kitchen with his parents sleeping on the upper floor.

Stiles throws his hips against Derek's, rubbing their body like his life depends on it, this time it's Derek's turn to be noisy as he lets out a groan. His mouth migrates to Stiles lips and proceeds to deflower them in the nicest manner, leaving them red and swollen.

So, yeah, Stile's crush on Derek might or might not be a simple crush. He had met Derek when he was eleven, not so long after he first met Scott and they decided they would be best friend 5ever. Scott had, like that day, invited him at his house, however when he accepted the invitation, he didn't know he was about to meet the guy who would haunt his nights for the five following years.

Scott had a recomposed family, his mom had remarried when he was very young and he considered his step father like his own - his biological one being not very present. So, Scott and his mom had moved with his step-father Peter, and his two nephews Laura and Derek who pretty much became like his sister and brother.

Laura and Derek were twins, five years older, both extremely attractive and represented to Stiles all that was cool and inaccessible. But of the two Derek was the one who caught his attention the most with his grumpy airs and sad eyes. He learned later that the whole Hale family – except for Peter, Laura and Derek – had died in a fire. And Stiles had sworn to himself that he would do anything to wipe the sad expression out of Derek's face.

Stiles feels two hands grabs his ass and they move clumsily, lips and tongue locked to each other, to the kitchen work top. There, Stiles feels his body being hauled – _fucking Derek and his fucking muscles_ – and deposed not so gently on the work surface. He doesn't complain, this position being more comfortable than being pinned on the fridge. Derek hands are everywhere, caressing every part his body, turning him into a furnace. Derek hands finally settle on his thigh, caressing it slowly reaching his crotch. Stiles tries to repress a moan but ends up letting out a strangled noise against Derek lips.

"W-wait," he cries detaching his mouth from Derek's.

"What," Derek grunts, rubbing his stubbly cheeks on Stiles' soft skin.

He makes Stiles think of a cat and he can't help his heart from melting. Who knew Derek Hale could be this adorable? But he regains the trains of his thoughts quickly reminding himself that what Derek was about to do was not cute in any way, just downright nasty and a bit twisted, too.

"We can't do that here," he says trying to be as quiet as possible but the words come out more shouted than whispered.

"Why?" Derek stops rubbing his face against his – _thank god!_ – and is now looking at him confusedly.

Stiles gapes.

"_Why?_ Are you fucking serious you –"

Derek's hand against his mouth stops his tirade and Stiles feels deeply offended when the older hushes him, "you are going to wake them up", he murmurs then he continues, as if it was the most natural thing to do, to feel Stiles' boner.

"You can't – _aah! Ah_ – jerk me off in your kitchen with your parents, with_ Scott_ upstairs," Stiles tries to reason but mind dizzy from the new sensations little Stiles is experiencing, because hey, he's a sixteen years old, virgin boy and having someone else do it a for you provides a whole new level of pleasure.

"They're sleeping. They will never know," Derek finally declares with the tone of someone who will not put with any more bullshit. _And reverse situation much,_ Stiles thinks before all his thoughts are cut off by Derek yanking his pajama bottom to his ankles and taking his cock in hand. Then, his tongue is back in Stiles' mouth as his hand gives slow but firm strokes on his cock. It doesn't take longue for Stiles to reach climax and he comes in Derek's hand, his body shaking uncontrollably.

"So this was nice," he says putting back his pants up after regaining his senses. He feels gross and embarrassed but his heart is filled with so much happiness he can't care about the first two. "We should do it again. Sometime."

Derek is drying his hands in a tissue.

"Definitely," he smirks then leans to depose a chaste kiss on his lips.

Stiles beams. He leans on Derek's torso, cheeks hurting from smiling so widely. He wants to dance and he feels like a rainbow floats above his head, that his feet are deep in a fluffy cloud and that a unicorn is singing an ode to his happiness when a voice asks out of nowhere, "You're done?"

Stiles almost has a heart attack for the second time.

Laura in a bunny patterned night dress, hair messy and eyes almost closed comes into the kitchen.

"Don't mind me," she says voice heavy with sleep, "ah, I'm so thirsty…" She grabs a bottle of milk from the fridge, drinks from the bottle three large gulps, and exhales loudly. Then, she closes the fridge's door and walks back, "go back to your business, making out or whatever. Clean everything," she finishes in a vague gesture of the hand before going back to her room.

The two boys remain frozen, eyes glued where Laura just disappeared.

"The will never know," Stiles imitates angrily when comes back to his senses accompagning his words by jabbing an elbow in Derek's ribs.

* * *

Later, in the morning it occurs to Stiles that maybe Laura didn't know he received his first hand job by his brother in their kitchen. That maybe she was one of those people who could wake up in the night and not remember a thing in the morning.

Unfortunately, all his hopes are crushed when Laura leans against Scott during breakfast and whispers something into his ear, her eyes locked on Derek and him as she smiles evilly. He has no more doubt left, when Scott nearly strangles on his waffle, eying his brother in betrayal before leaving the table in hast screaming in disgust.

**FIN**

* * *

**I'm sorry for the silliness of this story. It was late and I was bored.**


End file.
